Standing in front of this building, Lee frowned at the business card that she was holding in her palm. The address was right, but then why did it look like a bar instead of the office of a company? Well, the card had looked rather cheap, too. It wouldn't surprise her if this all happened to be a ruse for the killer to hide behind if need be. Not that she was going to make any conclusions without evidence.

James stood next to her, rocking back and forth on his feet, obviously nervous.

"Did you really have to come all the way out here to question this person?" he asked for the umpteenth time that day as he looked over his shoulder just in case someone might be lurking about, ready to empty his pockets or even kill him without him ever noticing.

"Yes," was the only response Lee gave him. She always preferred a face-to-face interrogation, people finding it much easier to lie their way out of things when she couldn't see their stupid heads. How she hated simple-minded people, petty enough to sink to the level of crime instead of earning their lives the legal way.

Without waiting to listen to his whining again, Lee checked the business card one last time before crossing the street, first looking left and then right even though she hadn't heard any cars coming, to get to the building. After avoiding the cracks on the pavement, she climbed up the short stair case.

One.

Two.

Three.

She turned and re-counted the amount of steps, making sure she had gotten the correct amount, before walking over to the front door. All the while, James, who had already arrived at the front door, waited patiently for her. He knew that if he interrupted her doing "her thing", as he liked to call it, she would have to start all over again.

"Come in!" was called from the other side of the door before Lee had even managed to raise her hand and knock. She shared a glance with James, who merely shrugged and gestured for her to do "her thing" again.

After patting all the pockets she had on her - two front pockets, two back pockets, two coat pockets - she opened the door and stepped inside, immediately beginning to eye her surroundings as she did so.

It looked absolutely horrible. Dirty, furnished by an amateur, empty yet disorganised, and sombre... Lee couldn't believe a business like this managed to not go bankrupt immediately. At least that explained the cheap-looking card. Pizza boxes were scattered everywhere, the desk standing at the back hurt her eyes with its littered top, the carpet wasn't put down properly with edges tucked beneath itself and - worst of all - the... paintings or whatever they were hanging on the wall - slanting.

Slanting.

And, possibly even worse, the tiles were designed just so that a foot didn't fit into one of the decoration circles.

How could anybody live, or just work, in a place like this?

"Ya done examining the goods?" the apparent owner of this horror house whom Lee hadn't noticed yet asked her, tilting his head to the side as he, in turn, examined her, his eyes filled with amusement as he did so. He sat at his desk, his feet resting on top of it with his arms behind his head.

The dirty desk.

Her fingers started itching at the sight of all this chaos and James couldn't help but let out a groan. The place they had to visit just had to look like this, didn't it? The two of them were never going to get out of here anytime soon.

Shaking her head and trying to concentrate on the case again, Lee took a few large strides towards this white-haired man and his desk - his obnoxious desk - while fingering the business card, which she then slammed down on the stained surface when she arrived there.

The owner of this abomination of a building picked it up gingerly, almost sad at the way she had treated it, and looked it over. "Yes, what's with it? You want a new one? This one looks awfully... used. Unfortunately for you, missy, I ran out just this morning so you'd-"

He stopped talking when Lee practically shoved a photograph into his face. His eyes wandered over the surface in confusion, wondering what he was supposed to do with this, when suddenly his face scrunched up as realisation dawned upon him. "What the hell is that?"

"That, mister, would be a victim of a killer we are desperately trying to capture. And she, unfortunately for you, had your business card on her body when we found her. Care to explain this?" Lee replied in a heartbeat as her hands busied themselves with the magazines and such that were scattered across the desk.

The white-haired man pulled his feet down and put them back on the ground, all the while staring at her in disbelief. Yet at the same time she managed to find a hint of humour in his eyes. Did he think this was a joke? "Whoa whoa whoa there, babe! Are you saying you're suspecting me of having done this?!"

"Please don't refer to me as 'babe'. And all I'm saying is that we're desperate and this has already been the fourth murder and we need something, anything, that can help us move forward," she responded and with a feeling of relief she finished structuring the magazines and books into neat stacks on the desk.

"May I first ask on exactly which body part she had my card?" he asked as he leaned forward again, this time on his elbows with his head in his hands.

Lee shot him a dangerous glare, to which he reacted by holding his hands in the air. "May a man not ask such a question around here?"

"It's none of your business where we found it, just answer the damn question," she growled, her irritation growing with every additional second she spent in this man's presence.

"No answer is also an answer, isn't it?" he retorted with a wide grin. "And I don't remember even being asked a question in the first place. I say you answer my question and I'll reply to your... claim."

Lee heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair. She already deeply regretted not taking up James's offer of just calling him. Though she doubted that would have helped her, to be honest.

"She had hidden it in her bra. Now tell me, do or do you not admit to being the perpetrator?" She frowned as the man who was obviously a pervert punched the air as some kind of celebration.

"Wait. You keep referring to this case as a murder, but this picture at least seems to be show a victim of some kind of animal," the suspect retorted rather suddenly.

Lee's hands fell still and she hesitated for a moment before answering. She couldn't pull back now, claiming it to be a hunch, but she wasn't quite sure that she should tell this to a suspect. Still, when she thought about it, what could actually happen if she were to explain it to him? If he were to kill her now, her boss and colleagues would know what happened, and she'd like to see him try, too. She had to force her hand to not rest on top of her holstered gun at the thought of that. Somehow, his blue eyes landed on her hand, anyway, and his lips formed another one of those annoying grins.

A glance towards James, who had been silent this whole time, told Lee that he thought the same, and so she began to lay out her theory.

"It all seems too calm and collected to be done by some beast. Sure, I got put on the case when it was still considered to be a 'raccoon problem', but the only thing that actually points to animals is the fact that the corpses are half-eaten. But clothes are almost always fully intact, wallets disappear and the bodies show up again days later. Why not eat the clothes as well? Why not stash the victim for later meals? But then again, the bite marks are obviously not human, so I don't know what to think, to tell you the truth."

"Yes, you do," he pushed, the grin turning into a small, friendly smile as his eyes locked with hers. For a moment there, he seemed much wiser than her, though she actually doubted that to be possible.

Lee hesitated once more, but this time because of James. He already believed she was crazy enough, but she feared that this might turn out to be the last drop.

"It's not human... but it's not animal either. Maybe, there's something else..." she mumbled. This had sounded much better in her mind. Now that she had said it out loud, she really did seem like a madman.

A dark cloud passed the stranger's face, which confused her. Hadn't he been the one pushing her for an answer? What else had he expected, then?

His words made her stop thinking for a moment. "Please get off this case."

Lee scowled at him, thinking he was joking around with her and almost spat out, "Fuck you."

But his face was serious and there were no more fun and games visible in his expression. His eyes flickered over to James, who took a step back as the tension between the two of them began to build up, before he pressed his hands on top of his desk. He leaned forward, and with his nose almost touching hers, she tried her best not to back down.

"I get it. This case is important for you, for your reputation or your ability to sleep at night-" Lee interrupted his whispering with a chuckle before letting him continue; her solving a case wasn't going to magically cure her insomnia or anything, "-or whatever, but there are things about the world that you don't know. Aren't supposed to know, too. So when I tell you to get off this case, I'm not doing it as this so-called culprit of yours, but as a friendly stranger to another, to protect you, missy. This won't end well for you if you decide to continue meddling with things that aren't supposed to be part of your life."

Lee stared into the icy blue eyes of this friendly stranger, her resolution wavering for a split second. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure about what she was supposed to do. But she wasn't about to give up just because some weirdo told her to do so. Not that she was going to tell said weirdo that, for he probably wouldn't let her go if she did.

Straightening her back, Lee called out to James without looking away from this man, whose name she still didn't know. "James, we're leaving. Go get the car ready, please."

"Thank you for your advice..." she then started, a professional smile making its way to her face as she held her hand out for him.

"Dante. And what might your lovely name be?" he asked her, his hand grasping hers in a firm handshake. He threw in a wink for good measure, the tension from before having disappeared completely in such a small amount of time, but she ignored it.

"Alethea Sheridan," she responded.

And then she added, "Thank you for the advice, Dante. I will consider it," despite the fact that she wasn't even planning on thinking his words over.

As though Dante expected this, he handed her the crumpled business card back. "Here. I have a feeling you'll be needing this more than I do."